Buddhist with a Gun

The swordsman who never was.

Although I am not a Buddhist, I admire Buddhism. Years ago I attended a Zen Buddhist retreat in Hawaii, led by a Japanese monk who spoke some English but said relatively little during the week-long session. Sessions included beginning swordsmanship, pottery, and other exercises intended to promote no-mind, or total absorption in the action of the moment. I especially liked the swordsmanship, although I had to receive special dispensation to hold the sword in my left hand (I’m left-handed).

When I told the instructors I wanted to pursue it further, they told me to see the head monk. My audience took place in a monastery room that was serving as his office. He sat on the floor and his associates were seated in various postures around the room.

I began to explain my situation. A translator stood by, but the priest understood everything. He listened attentively as I told him I wanted to study swordsmanship but was left-handed. What did he think? At this he burst out laughing. “You ever see a left-handed swordsman?” he asked me. He turned to his associates, who were also laughing. “You ever see a left-handed swordsman?” There was laughter and head-shaking all around.

An awkward silence followed. It probably lasted two or three seconds, although it felt like much longer. Finally, he chuckled. “Better you get a .45,” he said.